Comfort
by hermin22
Summary: Another Hermione comforting Minerva moment.


Comfort

Hermione walked slowly through the deserted hallway. It was way after curfew but, at the moment, the young witch couldn't care less. It didn't seem to matter anymore.

Heading for a place she felt she needed to see again, she was surprised to find a lone figure leaning against the balustrade. Not wanting to disturb the older woman, she turned around, but it was too late. Minerva McGonagall turned around to look at the intruder and without having said a word, turned back to watch the starlit night.

Hermione didn't know what to do. She had no desire to intrude on the older witch, but just leaving didn't feel right either. Shaking her head she moved to stand beside her professor. Neither of them said a word, each occupied with their private thoughts. This was the place Albus Dumbledore was murdered just a day ago.

After a while Hermione dared to glance at the woman beside her and discovered silent tears running down her cheeks and the young witch's heart went out to her mentor. Hermione could only imagine what the older witch must be going through right now. The mere thought that Harry or Ron could be killed during this war…. Sadly there would be no happy ending for the woman beside her. Tomorrow, everybody will look up to her for guidance, no matter if she was ready for that or not. She is a Professor and the Headmistress of Hogwarts. There didn't seem to be any room left for the grieving woman behind the post.

Moving closer to her mentor, Hermione reached out and put her hand on top of the older woman's.

Minerva seemed to freeze for a moment under the unfamiliar touch, but soon relaxed and squeezed her young charge's hand. She had fled from every well meant attempt to comfort her, because there was no comfort she would be able to accept at this point from people who felt the need to offer her condolences, just because that was the proper thing to do. She didn't have any close friends, expect for Albus. Of course there were Poppy and Ronalda and the members of the Order, but no one ever dared to come close enough to form a deep and heartfelt friendship with the stern Transfiguration mistress, and she probably wouldn't have allowed it anyway. And yet, here is this remarkable young woman, who's already been through so much in her short life, whose presence beside her felt more soothing than intruding.

Minerva held on tightly to the young witch's hand. "I am not ready for this," she whispered.

"I know," Hermione spoke just as quietly. "And I know you think you won't be able to be like Professor Dumbledore. You're right. You won't be like him, just like nobody will be like Headmistress McGonagall. Don't try to be him. Be you. That is all you can offer and it will be more than enough. I know you can do this and Professor Dumbledore knew it as well."

The older woman gazed at the girl for a while. "Miss Granger, would you… I, the place he died, I…"

Hermione was confused for a second. After all, this was the place he died and not the place where he was found on the grounds, but she knew now what she was being asked to do. "Of course Professor. I'll go with you."

For a moment, Minerva McGonagall looked grateful, but immediately covered it up with her normal stern expression. She turned around and started walking, a momentarily confused Hermione in her wake. She didn't think her mentor wanted to go right now but, as the funeral would be tomorrow, she guessed it would probably be the best moment to say goodbye.

What really bothered Hermione was the fact that her mentor didn't have her walking stick with her. She could understand that the older woman had things other than her health on her mind right now, but Hermione saw from the way her professor was carrying herself and from talks with Madam Pomfry that it was still very much needed. About halfway down the stairs, Hermione observed her mentor was beginning to walk slower, breathing more rapidly and beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

She couldn't very well tell off her new headmistress for being silly enough to walk long distances without her needed walking aid, so she stepped closer to the woman and offered her arm.

Minerva McGonagall was fighting her irritation, but was not very successful. She barely managed not to snap at Hermione, but she didn't take her arm either, but briskly kept on walking. She was not a bloody invalid! That's what she thought at least, until a sharp pain in her chest caused her to gasp for breath. "Hermione," she wheezed.

"I'm here, I'm right here!" Minerva felt the young woman in front of her and grabbed both of the young woman's shoulder tightly for support while she tried to get her breathing under control. When the pain finally lessened she leaned a bit forward and rested her head against her charge's shoulder. The pain had been so intense, she didn't even notice Hermione's caresses, but now she can feel one hand on her back and the other hand gently stroking her hair. She didn't have the strength or the will to move anymore.

"Do you still want to go out?" Hermione asked quietly.

Minerva McGonagall shook her head. "I don't think I can."

"All right. Do you need Madam Pomfry?"

The older woman sighed and straightened up a bit, one hand still resting on Hermione's shoulder. "No, but I would be very grateful if you could assist me to my quarters."

"Of course, Professor. "

Minerva nodded and slipped her hand in Hermione's. They slowly started walking and the older witch leaned heavily on Hermione's bent arm. The young woman could see and actually feel her mentor was in no small amount of pain - she was squeezing her charge's hand so tightly that it felt numb already.

It was impossible to tell who was more glad when they reached the professor's quarters.

"Here we are. If you want, I'll help you to your bedroom and prepare a tea for you while you get ready." Hermione didn't want to leave her mentor just yet.

"Thank you, Hermione. I would appreciate that very much."

Upon entering the bedroom, Hermione couldn't help but stare at all the books that covered the shelves. She barely noticed her mentor letting go of her and sitting on the bed.

"You are welcome to come by and have a closer look at my collection," Minerva sounded amused and Hermione felt herself blushing.

"Thank you professor, but I really don't want to intrude." It was the bedroom after all!

"You are not intruding, Hermione. I wouldn't have offered it if you were."

"Thank you very much. Shall I go now and make a cup of tea for you or do you need a hand with getting ready?"

"Tea sounds lovely, Hermione. You know where everything is, don't you? "

"Yes, I do. Would you like me to add a little pain relief potion?"

The older woman closed her eyes for a moment and nodded. "Please, it's in the cupboard beside the cups."

Hermione hated to see the strong woman looking so defeated. "I'll be back in a bit. You'll feel better very soon professor."

-----

Hermione took her time to prepare the tea, wanting to give her mentor enough time to get ready for bed. It was strange how comfortable she felt, standing in her stern professor's quarters, making tea, knowing that she would enter the older witch's bedroom very soon. She couldn't imagine doing that for any other Professor, but with Professor McGonagall it felt just like the natural thing to do.

When she thought her mentor was ready, she quietly knocked on the door.

"Come in, Hermione," she heard the older woman's tired voice.

The young with entered the warm bedroom once again and found her mentor sitting in bed, wearing a dark blue nightgown. She looked sad and shattered, but conjured a chair for her young charge beside her bed.

"Here is your tea, Professor," she said sitting down.

"Thank you, Hermione. I always have my last cup of tea in bed. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't know that. I'm afraid I know very little about you."

"Now that Albus is gone, nobody does." The old woman's voice was laced with grief and Hermione could see the tears forming in the emerald eyes.

A huge lump formed in the young witch's throat. "The two of you were very close, weren't you?" It was more a statement than a question, but Minerva answered anyway.

"He was my closest friend ever since I started Hogwarts. We went through so much together…"As hard as the normally so stern professor tried, she couldn't stop the tears from falling anymore.

"I know…" Hermione whispered, moving to sit on her mentor's bed. She gathered the crying woman into her arms and gently started rocking her. "You are not alone. I'm here for you, Professor." Instead of soothing the older woman, it caused her to sob even harder. She held onto the young witch so tightly, it felt to Hermione as if her mentor had waited a long time for a shoulder to lean on. "Shh… I'm here. I won't leave unless you want me to."

It was a long time until Hermione felt the older woman calming down. Instinctively knowing that words were not enough she just kept rubbing soothing circles on her mentors back and held her tight.

When Minerva's breathing slowed down a bit, she knew the older witch had cried herself to sleep in her arms. She gently disentangled herself from her mentor's arms and lied her down in bed.

"Hermione," came the faint whisper from the half sleeping woman.

"Yes, I'm here, "she said, kneeling beside the bed. Hesitantly, she reached out and started stroking the warm forehead and the silver hair. "Sleep now, Professor. I'll stay with you tonight. And tomorrow I'll accompany you wherever you want to go."

"You don't need to…"

"Shh…"Hermione cut her off. "You've taken care of me ever since I entered this world, let me take care of you tonight."

Hermione could see the older woman's eyes shining with unshed tears again as she nodded and reached for the girls hand and squeezed it tightly, as if to make sure it is really there.

The young witch smiled at her mentor almost tenderly and resumed stroking her hair while the old woman drifted off to sleep.

It was an uncomfortable night for Hermione. Even in her sleep, the professor wouldn't let go of Hermione's hand and Hermione wouldn't want to have it any other way. If she could provide any comfort at all, she would gladly spend the night at the older witch's bedside.

Merlin knows she needs it.

The End

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Many thanks to my new beta!!


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